31 Days of Crackfest
by Ness Frost
Summary: A crack-short-a-day speedwrite for the month of October while I attempt to re-learn How To Author. Fridge Logic and insanity abound. Happy Halloween!
1. Straighten Out Your Priorities

**Note about warnings:** Normally, when I do oneshot collections, I put content warnings at the beginning of each individual story. But seeing as this is _Hellsing_ , I figure that if you made it through canon there's not a whole lot my writing can do to hurt you. I'll still warn for stuff that I judge to be sufficiently outside the scope of canon, but other than that, I'm declaring this collection to be _read at your own risk_. All other tagging principles continue to apply.

 **Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Integra, Seras

* * *

Another street. Another husk of a burnt-out pharmacy. Another stop.

Seras left her sack outside and ducked in to sort through the rubble. There was a time when she might have worried about the ceiling falling in on her or the floor collapsing under her feet, but now, she had no such fears. The building might still collapse, but the time was long past when such things could hurt her.

Thankfully, it was not hard to find what she was looking for—not many looters, in a city where no one had been left alive. Stuffing her bounty into the sack, she slung it back over her shoulder before leaping into the sky.

Supplies were running short, and so was time. She could only hope that she would not be too late.

* * *

"Sir!" she yelled, bursting into the room after a short run down the hallway. "Sir, I got it!"

"Took you long enough."

Integra was speaking through clenched teeth, sweat standing out on her face and her brows drawn together with pain. Given the circumstances, Seras couldn't exactly blame her for her snappishness, and hustled into the room to deposit her load.

"This is all that I could find." She opened the sack, and upended it onto the nearest available table.

Bottles and bottles of conditioner spilled out, so many that some of them scattered onto the floor. Integra smiled faintly with relief.

The poor maid who was currently at work attempting to unsnarl her hair, which seemed to have turned into one big mat over the course of the attack, also looked relieved. "Thank you so much," she mouthed over Integra's head.

"Timely as always, Seras. I was starting to be afraid I was going to have to cut it."

* * *

 **A/N:** There was a time in my life when I had Integra-length hair. _There is a reason I chopped it all off and started taking an electric shaver to my head on a semi-regular basis._ So while I was watching the finale, there was always that little Fridge Logic part in the back of my head thinking that okay, she's just been in a car wreck… and stood atop a building amid a burning city with the wind dramatically blowing her hair… and then been flown out of an exploding blimp… seriously, if her _super-long_ luxurious hair _isn't_ all tangled and knotted by the end of that, it'll be a miracle.


	2. The Problem with Pip

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Integra, Seras, Pip

 **Relationship:** Integra/Seras

 **Warnings:** Mentions of voyeurism and fetishization of F/F relationships

* * *

Integra Hellsing did not do things by halves.

Which was not to say she did not put thought into her choices: as a matter of fact she put in quite a bit. It was only to say that when she made a decision, she did not second-guess it: she did not hem and haw over what was most important.

She had known what she was doing when she had invited Seras Victoria into her bed.

…or at least, she'd _thought_ she knew what she was doing.

Now, she was lying halfway in her bed, her clothes half off and her arousal half sated, trying to figure out _what_ in the name of all that was holy could have gone wrong.

Might it have something to do with the fact that Seras had been about to jump in bed with someone who was, quite technically, her boss? Granted, they'd talked about it beforehand, and Integra _thought_ that she had made it clear that her proposition was not an order, but an invitation to be taken only at free will, but… maybe her assurances hadn't been enough, and Seras had felt herself to be under uncomfortable pressure. It would certainly explain why the young vampire had suddenly gone stiff as a board before leaping out of bed as if she'd been scalded, and promptly run into the bathroom while babbling out something that sounded vaguely like "I'm sorry, I'm feeling—that is, I have to— _berightbackIhavetogo!_ "

If Integra had been dealing with a human partner, she would have suspected a bout of illness, or some other bodily function making itself known at an inopportune time. Such as it was, however, she knew damn well that vampires were subject to no such thing, and Seras could not possibly be sick—not unless she'd tried to eat something she shouldn't again, in which case they would certainly be having words.

Integra shook her head. She was overthinking this—more likely than not, Seras had just gotten cold feet, and been too embarrassed to say as much outright. If Integra was honest with herself, _she_ was somewhat nervous, and she couldn't expect a partner who was also going into this virgin to be completely at ease. Sighing, she pushed herself into a sitting position against the headboard, straightened her blouse (though she didn't bother to button it up again—who knew; maybe they'd be able to pick up again where they'd left off), and reached for the cigar box. She'd just flicked the lighter when Seras's voice exploded from behind the bathroom door.

" _We need to talk._ "

Integra's eyebrows rose up into her hairline. She flicked the lighter off and set the cigar aside unlit. Before she could formulate a fitting response to the unprecedented aggression in the vampire's tone, though, Seras spoke again.

" _You know damn well what I'm talking about!_ " Well, at any rate, that made it clear she wasn't talking to Integra, who continued to listen nonplussed.

"I have _boundaries_ , Pip, and I expect them to be respected!" A pause, as if she was listening to a response. "This isn't a battle! No, you don't get to watch!"

 _Now_ she had the gist of what was going on. There was another long pause while Integra, smirking with amusement, reached once more for the neglected cigar. "Well, _figure it out!_ " Seras yelled as she flicked the lighter.

The bathroom door slammed open. Integra raised her eyebrows at Seras over the lit end of her cigar. The young vampire was breathing heavily, her face flushed, though her clenched fists indicated that those particular reactions were due to anger rather than lust. Pity.

"Trouble with your familiar?" Integra asked lightly, exhaling smoke. She made no effort to hide her amusement.

Seras looked at her plaintively, looking so much like a kicked puppy that Integra had to laugh. "Can we just cuddle for now?"

* * *

 **A/N:** It doesn't actually matter who Seras is paired up with for the purposes of this bit of crack. I went with Integra because Alucard/Seras squicks me.

For the record, I don't think Pip's continued presence in Seras's mind is incompatible with her having other love interests at some point in her life. As a matter of fact, this crack idea was born of my own ponderings on the ridiculousness of the ship wars, and the amount of hate that Pip apparently gets for supposedly being "in the way" of the Seras ship of choice, if anything I think that her pleasure is his now and he would be perfectly happy about—DAMN IT BRAIN!


	3. And How Does That Make You Feel?

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Integra, Seras, Walter, OC

 **Relationships:** Very, very brief mention of Seras/Pip

* * *

"…so what happened then?"

"I found the room in the basement that my father told me about. I was just opening up the door when my uncle caught up to me."

"Your uncle tried to harm you?"

"He was trying to _kill_ me, he just had terrible aim."

* * *

"…so then he asks me if I'm a virgin, and when I say yes he shoots through me to hit the vampire's heart."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Um… in pain? I mean, that was probably the worst pain I've ever felt in my life, right up until some Nazi wannabe vampire gouged my eyes out and chopped off my arm…

* * *

"…and how did that make you feel?"

"How do you _think_ it made me feel? I was _fifteen!_ All those years, working and slaving and putting my life at risk for my country, and what thanks do I get? 'Clean up the war zone, Walter.' 'Pick up after your slovenly master, Walter.' 'Constantly play second fiddle to the arrogant vampire who should have been left in his coffin, Walter.' 'Risk your life for your country while your master spends his money on whiskey and harlots, Walter.' 'Act like a proper John Bull, Walter, it's unseemly for a butler to be having hysterics in public…'"

* * *

"So this… vampire?… saved you?"

"Yes. He ripped my uncle's men to pieces, and tore off my uncle's arm."

"And he did this in front of you?"

"I didn't look away, if that's what you mean."

"What about your uncle? Did the vampire kill him as well?"

"No, I did that myself."

* * *

"…after he shot me, he raped my mother's dead body right in front of me. And then that Nazi wannabe vampire I was telling you about earlier dug into my memories and made me relive the whole thing all over again…"

* * *

"'Light my cigar, Walter. It's not as if you're a retired vampire hunter or anything.' 'Make new guns for the vampire you fought alongside when you were a teenager and pretend it doesn't bother you that he's practically immortal and you're too old to take the field anymore, Walter.' 'Raise my daughter because I couldn't be arsed to stay in the world of the living long enough to finish the job myself, Walter…'"

* * *

"…and then, after serving my family for more than fifty years, he betrays us! He sacrifices his humanity and tries to kill my most loyal servant, and for what? I've known him all my life, and I still don't see how he could _do_ something like that!"

"I'm… afraid I can't say. But do you think it's possible that, in addition to having some deep psychological issues, he might have felt somewhat underappreciated?"

"I appreciated him more than anyone else in the whole organization and he should damn well have _known_ it! He was the first one I went to for advice, he was there for me when my father wasn't… damn it, things _didn't have to be this way!_ The worst part is, even after what he did, I still miss him so much…"

* * *

"…so you became a fully-fledged vampire…"

"…by drinking my boyfriend, yes."

"…"

"He told me to do it! Here, would you like to ask him yourself?"

* * *

"Hello, you have reached London Mental Health and Wellness Counseling. How may we help you today?"

"Hello, _I need to schedule an appointment as soon as possible_."

"Of course! Is this for yourself or on behalf of someone else?"

"Myself."

"And may I ask whether this is an emergency? For example, are you feeling suicidal, or are you worried that you might be a danger to yourself or others?"

"… … I'm a private therapist for the Hellsing Organization."

"I'm putting it on the record that your case is indeed an emergency. We'll get you in right away. Now, if you'll leave us your name and phone number, we have an opening first thing tomorrow…"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hellsing: where even the therapists need therapy.

(I did initially consider including Alucard, given that he's one of the most psychologically messed-up characters of the cast, but when I tried to picture Alucard sitting down with a therapist my brain promptly melted and started running out my ears.)


	4. Earn Your Wings, Part I

**Universe:** Either/or; Dawn Era

 **Characters:** Walter, Seras, Girlycard

* * *

"Walter?" Raising her fist, Seras rapped lightly on the door of the workshop. "Um… excuse me, Walter?"

"Please, come in." The door cracked open, and Walter looked up at her with a smile as she hesitantly edged into the room. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Um, yes, my gun." She hefted the massive cannon over her shoulder. "It's…"

Seras stopped. She blinked. For the first time, she noticed that Walter had rolled up his sleeves in order to do his work, and he had a multitude of prominent scars crisscrossing his forearms.

"Um… did you get those hunting vampires? That must have been some battle!" She held up her hands. "N-not that I mean to be nosy, I was just curious!"

* * *

Damn it!

 _Walter struggled, but his thrashing only succeeded in digging the wires deeper into his arms, and he was forced to stop fighting lest he lose a limb, not honorably in battle but to his own weapon._

 _How had he gotten himself into this mess? He might not have been training for very long, but he'd been_ sure _he'd be able to pull off a bit of light practice on an unmoving target. When he'd tried to slice up the log that he'd carefully set atop a convenient boulder, though, he'd barely flicked the wires out when he'd felt one of them snag on something behind him, and before he knew it, he'd been yanked backwards and pinned against the trunk of a nearby tree by a mess of wires that only seemed to dig deeper into his skin the harder he tried to untangle them. If their grip on him got much tighter he'd be sliced into ribbons._

 _To add insult to injury, the log was still exactly where he'd left it._

 _He was just debating whether slicing himself into ribbons would be preferable to the risk of any of the staff (or, worse, Sir Hellsing) coming outside and seeing him like this, when a girlish head slowly materialized up from beneath the ground in front of him._

 _"Well, well," the vampire crooned, leaning back to rest on her elbows while still half in and half out of the earth and tilting her head back to look up at Walter with a wicked smile on her face. "And here I was afraid this was going to be a_ boring _evening."_

 _"Damn it, Alucard!" Walter jerked reflexively, but only succeeded in opening up a whole_ new _gash on one of his legs. "Are you going to sit there and gloat, or are you going to help me?"_

 _"Gloat, I think." Coming the rest of the way out of the ground, Alucard crossed her legs, leaned forward, and rested her chin in her hand. "I'm far too interested to see how you're going to get yourself out of this."_

* * *

"…yes. Yes, it was definitely a battle. Now, if you'll excuse the change of topic, would you mind explaining what the problem is with your gun?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Seriously, how does one _learn_ a weapon like that without accidentally cutting oneself into pieces? (Not to mention that the more I learn about Walter's backstory, the more it amazes me that he survived to adulthood, much less old age.)


	5. Too Good to Be True

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Pip, Alucard

 **Relationship:** Some one-sided Seras/Pip

* * *

Come to London, they said. It'll be nice to get out of the sand traps for a while, they said.

The City of Fog: where the food was barely edible, that cute girl could send you flying across the room with a flick of her finger, and the only thing worse than finding out that the boss lady was crazy was finding out that she _wasn't_.

Then, of course, there was Alucard.

It seemed that he wasn't satisfied with walking through a wall on just one occasion to prove his nature. No, apparently now that they were onboard he felt the need to remind them _constantly_ for every hour of every day what he was and what he could do to them if he ever got bored with his current job.

It started when Pip and two of his men were heading out for a smoke break at the end of their shift. One second, they were trading stories of the girls they'd met in Paris, the next, they were landing flat on their asses as a red-clad vampire walked through the seemingly solid wall directly in front of them.

For a moment, they only stared at each other, Pip's heart hammering in his chest while Alucard grinned down at them, a disturbingly crazed look in his disturbingly red eyes and his disturbingly bloodthirsty grin baring disturbingly sharp fangs. Pip had just enough time to see his life flash before his eyes as he wondered how firm of a hold that Hellsing woman _really_ had on Alucard's leash and how much she'd _really_ care if her pet vampire decided to snack on a mercenary or two, before said pet vampire apparently lost interest and left—by walking directly through the solid wall opposite.

It continued when Pip was summoned to the boss lady's office for a briefing, along with that cute (vampire, granted, but still incredibly cute) girl. They'd crossed paths in the hallway and he'd just started chatting her up in the hopes of getting to know her in a way that _didn't_ involve her giving him a concussion, when a mass of shadows congealed up out of the floor directly in front of them.

At least Pip managed not to fall on his ass this time, but leaping backwards by a full meter and shrieking like a girl wasn't a whole lot better in his book.

Seras, by contrast, seemed not at all bothered by the writhing mass of shadows, eyeballs, and… were those _centipedes?_ … that was rapidly condensing into the red-eyed form of Alucard. "Master," she chided, looking up at him petulantly as he settled down into a form that could at least _somewhat_ pass for human. "That was mean."

"And cavorting with human mercenaries is frivolous, when we have a job to do," he retorted. "My Master has orders for us. We must not keep her waiting."

"You are aware he's only doing it to mess with you?" Walter pointed out when Pip indulged in a bit of grumbling in the butler's presence. "Rest assured that he's not allowed to harm employees, and we keep him very well fed. Stop reacting and he'll eventually get bored."

 _Yeah_ , Pip thought, _I bet that's easy for a retired vampire hunter to say._

The breaking point came when he got up in the middle of the night to visit the toilet. He was just trudging back to his quarters when he thought he noticed something in his peripheral vision; looking up, he saw a pair of red eyes staring at him from atop the ceiling.

This time he _did_ fall on his ass; as he looked up at the ceiling, heart hammering against his chest, he managed to make out Alucard's upside-down grinning face slowly retracting back upwards until it was gone. He had not been harmed, he had not even been _threatened_ , but nevertheless Pip got no more sleep that night, nor the next few nights after.

Suddenly, he was starting to miss the Middle East.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm pretty sure that the Wild Geese was not a one-off thing, and Alucard does this sort of hazing to _all_ the new recruits who are hired by Hellsing, from the human troops right down to the hired help.


	6. Clear as Smoke

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Integra-centric; cameos by Alucard, Seras, Walter, and some of the Gonzo characters

* * *

"Ere's bi vampy akivity reporred i uh villi uh Surrey. Ah'card, ah wan you an' uh poleesh girl tu gah an' puh hit dahn."

"Yes, my Master. Your order is my command." Grinning, Alucard turned on his heel and swept out of the room.

Seras, however, did not immediately follow her sire, but instead stood in front of Integra's desk, blinking. Raising her eyebrows, Integra took her cigar out of her mouth and blew a stream of smoke out over her desk. "Well, Police Girl?" she demanded. "I gave you an order. What are you waiting for?"

"N-nothing!" With a timid squeak, Seras hurried out of the room and raced to catch up to her sire.

"This is no time to dawdle, Police Girl," Alucard chided her in turn as soon as she caught up with him. "My Master has given us a mission, and it's time for us to fulfill it."

"Well, yes, but…" For a few seconds Seras looked at her feet, before she finally came to a decision and raised her head. "Um… Master? What exactly _did_ she tell us to do?"

"We're going to Surrey to put down a vampire." Alucard grinned. "This is going to be a _great_ night."

* * *

"Leh Ah'card tay cah uv uh vampires, buh ah wan you tuh take aht ay gooh yeh see. Sush ad deshoy! Lee huh uv hem ahive! Iz at kheer?"

"Yes, sir!" Farguson saluted, and made sure to catch Walter's eye as soon as her back was turned. The other man gave him a slight nod, and then drifted over as if to inspect the troops as they were packing up their gear.

"Leave the vampires to Alucard, but your team is to put down any ghouls you encounter," Walter whispered into his ear as he leaned close on the pretense of checking a weapon.

Farguson nodded his thanks before turning to address his team. "All right men, let's move out!"

* * *

"Walter, do you take me seriously?"

"Of course, ma'am. As do your men. I can assure you they have only the highest respect for you and your work."

"Unfortunately, having the respect of the Round Table matters as well, and sometimes I have the impression that they don't listen to me at all."

"If I may be so bold, I'm most certain that you are mistaken. May I ask why you believe such a thing of the Round Table members?"

"Sometimes, when I make a suggestion, they all nod their heads and make vague affirmations but then go back to whatever they were talking about before without addressing it at all." She reached into her desk drawer and took out a cigar, holding it still long enough for Walter to light it. "Ah don' unnerstan why they ne'er lithen tuh meh."

"I'm sure I have no idea."

* * *

 **A/N:** You can thank the Tropes Wiki for this particular bit of crack. I got Integra's dialogue by trying to speak while holding a toothbrush in my mouth. Seriously, how does she _talk?_

(Yes, I know that Integra enunciated clearly in the anime. This was funnier.)


	7. The Paladin's Secret

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Anderson, various Iscariot members

* * *

"Now, can anyone answer this very important question for me?" Alexander Anderson paced in front of his disciples, who all stood at rapt attention. "What is the most essential skill for a paladin to master?"

For a moment, nobody spoke. A few throats were cleared and a few feet were shifted before they came to the collective realization that he wasn't going to let them off the hook that easily, and Yumie tentatively raised her hand.

"To serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling?"

"I was asking about _skills_ , Yumie, not the necessary devotion." His eyes swept down the line, until his gaze landed on another unwitting victim. "What about you, Heinkel? Can _you_ name the paladin's most essential ally?"

Heinkel stiffened briefly at being put on the spot, but nevertheless made a valiant effort to answer. "Um… mastery of a weapon?"

"Wrong again!" Anderson leaned in close, until he was right in Heinkel's face. "What if your weapon is taken away from you, hm? Or for that matter, what if it breaks? Our job is to kill monsters and heathens, and ye can't fight monsters with yer teeth!"

Just as abruptly as he'd started his impassioned speech, he backed off, retreated to the front of the room, and stood at attention, looking over his pupils with his hands behind his back. "Well?" he prodded once more, after the silence had dragged on a bit. "Any other takers?" Nobody spoke.

"Well then." Anderson reached his hands further behind his back. "The most important skill for a paladin to master—" his fingers twitched "—is the use—" he flung his arms outward, and hundreds of bayonets flew away from him to embed themselves in the walls, "—of HAMMERSPACE!"

"Um… what." It seemed that Heinkel spoke for everyone, as most of the other people in the room were now staring at their teacher with expressions ranging from confusion to outright disbelief.

"Hammerspace, man, hammerspace!" Anderson waved his arms. "Do ye think that I keep these—" another barrage of bayonets flew from his outflung hands; some of the paladins ducked "—under my coat? Hah!"

Slowly, the students who'd flung themselves on the floor climbed back to their feet, none of them wanting to take bets on when Anderson was going to decide it was time to throw more sharp objects in random directions. They looked at each other. What their teacher was claiming sounded like madness, but… on the other hand, it did make sense. After all, where _else_ could he be keeping those things?

* * *

 **A/N:** Seriously, where _does_ he keep those things?

I was puzzling over how I could be writing a collection of crack and only now does Anderson make his first appearance, but... I guess that Anderson is such a ham in canon that there's not a whole lot I can do with him that isn't completely redundant.


	8. For Queen and Country

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Walter, Alucard, and one _very_ unfortunate OC

 **Warning:** Some _extremely_ morbid humor

* * *

"These are the men?"

"The very same."

"And may I confirm that all of them are capable of piloting _this_ particular craft?"

"Exactly as you say—they are every last one of them exemplary pilots."

"Excellent. We will take it from here."

Though the man seemed puzzled with the oddity of the situation, he knew a dismissal when he heard one and left with a brief salute. Good. The fewer people were involved in this, the better.

Turning, Walter surveyed the line of pilots who stood at attention in front of him. He cleared his throat. "First of all, may I assume that you have been briefed as to the purpose of this evaluation?" There were nods of assent all around.

"Very good; that will save me some explaining." Once again, he swept his eyes over the pilots. No easy way to make a decision like this. "If your received the briefing, then you will certainly be aware of the dangerous nature of this mission. Therefore, I will ask any of you who have families to please step out of line."

The men looked at each other uneasily before five of them stepped back, saluted, and went on their way. Good. That certainly narrowed it down, yet not so much that it took his choices down to zero.

Carefully, Walter considered the three who remained. They were all young. This would not be an easy choice, but it was a choice that had to be made and time was of the essence. "Wives and children aside," he intoned carefully, "may I ask whether any of you have any _other_ dependents who rely on your support?"

After a few seconds, one of them swallowed nervously. "My… my mum," he murmured, sounding almost apologetic, when Walter caught his eye. "Dad died a few years back, and I'm the only family she has left…"

"Very well," Walter cut him off, having neither the time nor any interest in listening to someone else's life story, "you are also dismissed." The man looked positively relieved as he hurried away, but also more than a little guilty for whatever it was he had left his comrades to face.

That left only two. Walter looked them over carefully, trying to ascertain whether one was more eager than the other, or for that matter more skilled. Nothing. They both stood at strict attention, neither betraying any obvious signs of either anxiety or enthusiasm.

Well, Integra had told him to do whatever was necessary, and if he ended up having to flip a coin, so be it. There was, however, one more thing that was left to try. "Now that there are only two of you left," he said, "may I ask for a volunteer?"

The two men looked at each other. Walter waited. After a moment, the one on the right raised his hand. "I'll do it," he said with an audible swallow. Walter could see his hand shaking slightly, but fortunately that did not matter.

"Excellent." Though time was precious, he allowed the young man and his last remaining companion a few moments to say their goodbyes. Fortunately this was short; the one clapped the other on the shoulder with a whispered "Good luck" before going on his way. The volunteer turned to him, evidently expecting further instructions, but Walter did not speak until the echoes of his companion's footsteps had faded from the hangar.

"Alucard," he said at last. "This one."

The confused pilot barely had time to blink before the vampire materialized right through the solid wall behind him and grabbed hold of him with far more limbs than one person had any right to have. His nervousness transformed into an expression of abject terror as Alucard sank his fangs into his neck.

"We thank you for this service to Queen and country," Walter intoned over the man's muffled screams. "Unfortunately, the mission we have in mind is one that no human body will be able to withstand—but rest assured that your knowledge will be put to the best of use." He finished speaking just as the man's drained, lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wait a minute, Alucard's an ancient vampire who's probably never had to fly a plane in his life; how does he know how to pilot DAMN IT BRAIN STOP ASKING QUESTIONS YOU DON'T WANT THE ANSWER TO!


	9. Supply and Demand

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Integra, Alucard, Walter, mentions of Anderson

* * *

Integra rubbed her fingers across the bridge of her nose, pushing her glasses up onto her forehead. The headache she could feel building behind her eyes was nothing to the one she would have if they didn't manage to solve this little hitch in their organization, and soon.

"Tell it to me again, Walter," she said at last, letting her glasses slide back into place as she lowered her hand to rest on top of the desk. (God, she wanted a smoke, but it seemed somehow inappropriate to indulge in such an extravagance while they were in the middle of discussing a shortage.)

"I'm afraid that there's nothing left to tell." Walter's posture was rigid, his hands clasped behind his back, but he addressed her with an expression of genuine concern. "The simple fact of the matter is, vampire-killing bullets don't grow on trees, and the church is quickly losing patience with the number of holy relics that we must melt down in order to manufacture them. At the rate Alucard goes through them, I fear that it's only a matter of time before they start refusing to supply us altogether."

"That's what I was afraid of. And you're sure the church won't budge?"

"I will, of course, continue to negotiate—but I'm afraid that cooperation is not the only obstacle. There's also the matter of carrying out such blessings, and the fact that we have a limited number of people to perform the actions in addition to a limited number of artifacts that can be made holy to begin with—"

"There's no need to explain further, Walter. I think I understand the situation." In spite of herself, Integra found herself reaching for her cigar case. "Just keep doing whatever you can, and I'll look into finding alternatives."

"Very good, sir." Walter offered her a slight bow before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Integra waited until the door had closed behind him before snuffing the cigar, taking off her glasses, and burying her face in her hands.

Walter was very capable and she was sure he would do his best, but there was no getting around the truth of his statements: they were running out of holy silver, and the church simply could not resupply it fast enough. They didn't have the manpower or the resources of the Catholic Church; Maxwell, meanwhile, was still handing out holy weapons left and right, as if deliberately taunting the smaller Protestant country over its shortages…

 _The Catholic Church_. Integra paused… held that thought… rolled it around in her mind as the beginnings of an idea slowly took shape.

* * *

"What is your order, my Master?"

"I have it on good intelligence that Alexander Anderson is going to be present in Ireland tonight." Integra steepled her fingers, taking note of Alucard's eager grin. "If the Catholic Church fails to uphold its end of the agreement, then we need to send them a bit of a reminder, wouldn't you say?"

"Of course, Master. I'll—"

"Leave your guns here."

It wasn't very often that Integra had the pleasure of seeing Alucard look shocked—or, for that matter, dismayed. "M-Master?"

"In addition," she continued mercilessly, "I have one more order for you."

* * *

Integra was in the process of balancing the budget when her office door creaked open. Looking up, she gave a nod of greeting as her vampire shuffled forward to stand before her desk.

He looked incredibly haggard, for a being who never aged, rarely tired, and was probably as close as anyone was ever going to get to a true immortal. Then again, the veritable pincushion of bayonets that was currently sticking out from every visible part of his body might have had something to do with that.

Blood dripped onto the floor as he pulled out first one, then another, and laid them on her desk—right on top of her paperwork, as it just so happened, and Integra felt her eyebrow twitch. Finally, though, all of them were out, and the stack of blades that teetered on her desk reached well above her head.

"I have done as you ordered, my Master."

"Excellent work, Alucard." Integra had been examining one of the bayonets as she wiped its edges clean; now, she removed her glove and swiped it carelessly across the palm of her hand before offering it to her servant. The vampire took her hand in his as gently as ever, but bent his face to her palm with none of the usual foreplay.

Once he was finished, and her glove properly replaced, Integra indicated the stack of bayonets that was still teetering on her desk. "This is where your next batch of bullets is coming from," she informed him sternly. "Do try to use them more sparingly from now on."

* * *

 **A/N:** Sadly, I cannot take credit for this idea either. It sprang from a forum discussion on the logistics of how many holy relics they're melting down to make Alucard's bullets, which he doesn't exactly use conservatively.


	10. How Not to Date a Vampire, Part I

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Pip, Integra

 **Relationship:** Seras/Pip

* * *

As far as first kisses went, Pip had had some pretty bad ones.

There was that one time, when he was still in school, when he and Chloe Viger had been blushing and talking and spending several long minutes building up to it, only to both go for it at the same instant and end up bonking heads. There was the girl who, shortly after he'd lost his eye, had put her hand on the back of his head in _just_ the right way to make his eyepatch slip off, and after one glimpse at the mangled socket in mid-kiss had promptly decided she'd had enough for the evening. There was the one who hadn't known the difference between "kiss" and "chew on tongue", the one where the wind had picked up at the last minute and instead of meeting his lips she'd ended up chewing a hunk of his hair… This wasn't even the first time he'd had a girl throw up in his mouth, come to think of it—but even so, it was _really_ scraping the bottom of the barrel.

If he absolutely _had_ to choose between them, though, Pip honestly thought he preferred the bile-tinged alcohol and half-digested fish chunks to the lingering aftertaste of secondhand blood.

He'd been _so close_ that time, too, he thought morosely as he stuck his head under the sink, _again_ , in an effort to rinse out the vile aftertaste (not to mention the lingering bloodstains). Finally, once he no longer looked like he'd been engaging in cannibalism and he'd decided that the only thing that was going to get rid of the rest of that metallic flavor was a nice long smoke, he pushed his way out of the washroom… only to find Integra Hellsing leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed and an unlit cigar in her mouth.

"Seras Victoria is still severely ill," she said without preamble as Pip blinked at her. "She'll recover with rest and blood, but will be unable to work tonight and probably for several more nights in succession."

"I'm… sorry to hear it, sir." Had she come all the way down here just to tell him that?

Taking the cigar out of her mouth, she fixed him with a stare that made him feel like nothing so much as an errant schoolboy. "Now, tell me what you did wrong."

What _he'd_ done—! _She is your boss, she is your boss, you're not allowed to backtalk her even to protest injustices… regardless of how unjust they may be_ _…_ "I'm… afraid I don't follow."

Integra only continued to pin him with her stare. The feeling of being a schoolboy again intensified—he felt like he'd just been called on to answer, when he hadn't been paying attention to the question. "What did you have for dinner?"

 _Dinner?_ "Um… what does that have to do with—"

"Answer the question, Bernadotte."

This had been his night off; he'd decided to treat himself to something special (and very decidedly _not_ British) before he'd returned to the manor and just so happened to run into Seras on the way to his quarters. "Italian. But I still don't see what that—"

His boss was still looking at him, now with an eyebrow raised. What, exactly, was she getting at here? He'd eaten Italian… before he'd tried to kiss a vampire…

"Oh no! No no no, I'm so—God, I'm such an idiot!"

Integra's only response was to shake her head. "I'll convey your apology to the unfortunate Miss Victoria." She sighed, put the cigar back in her mouth, and flicked her lighter. "Next time you have garlic bread for dinner, Romeo, be sure to brush your teeth before kissing any vampires."

* * *

 **A/N:** There's some evidence that since Seras is a much younger, weaker vampire than Alucard, she's subject to a lot more of the classic vampire weaknesses that he can just shrug off.


	11. Earn Your Wings, Part II

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Walter, Seras, Alucard

 **Continuity:** For context, see Part I, where Walter was learning to use his wires and accidentally tied himself to a tree

* * *

"Miss Victoria."

"Oh hey, Walter." She blinked at him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she moved the lid the rest of the way off of her coffin. "What's the occasion?"

"I am here to inform you that the repairs to your gun have been completed." He smiled a bit ruefully. "Though, in deference to my age, I'm going to have to ask you to come to the workshop and pick it up yourself."

"Oh! O-of course!" In two bounds she was out of her coffin and at the door.

"So… um… Walter?"

"Yes, Miss Victoria?"

"If it's not too much trouble, I was wondering whether you could tell me more about that battle? You know, the one where you got your scars?"

"I… well, that is…"

"Yes, Walter, do tell us about the battle." Alucard materialized from a mass of shadows as he rose from the floor in front of them, grinning down at Seras. "I can assure you that the tale is nothing short of… spell _binding_."

Walter did not look amused. "You could have done a bit more to help."

"And rob you of the glory?" Alucard fell into step beside them as they continued down the hall. "As I recall, you were so eager to prove yourself, Angel of Death."

"You were there, Master?" Seras cut in, seemingly oblivious to the tension between butler and vampire.

"Indeed he was," Walter confirmed with a rather dour expression.

"Indeed I was," Alucard echoed. "As a matter of fact, I got to see everything that happened while Walter was… _tied up_."

"Were there many vampires?" Seras asked eagerly.

"No." Walter's shoulders slumped with defeat as he realized he wasn't getting out of this. "No, not many."

"But the opponent he did face very nearly _stumped_ him, isn't that right, Angel?"

Walter was now audibly grinding his teeth. "I barely escaped with my life, no thanks to the inaction of a _certain vampire_ I could name…"

"So… what actually _happened?_ " Seras looked from Walter to Alucard. "Master, why didn't you help him?"

"I didn't help him because his opponent was too far beneath me to be worth my time." His eyes flicked to Walter. "Besides, I knew that if he just _cut loose_ , he'd easily be able to save himself."

" _Okay Seras we are at the workshop please take your gun and go now if you'll excuse me I'm very busy so if you want the rest of the story you can get it from Alucard._ "

* * *

 **A/N:** I was _not_ expecting Alucard to start punning as much as he did.


	12. Unlife Hacks

**Universe:** _Technically_ compatible with either, but makes more sense with the Gonzoverse characterization

 **Characters:** Seras

 **Warnings:** Some self-loathing and suicidal thoughts

* * *

When every one of her coworkers had been transformed into mindless ghouls, when that vampire had had her in its clutches, when the stranger in red had informed her that he was going to shoot her in the lung to hit the heart of the vampire behind her, Seras had wanted to _live_. Even knowing what she knew now, she could not say she regretted having chosen even a frightening, shadowed unlife over the dust of the grave.

Even so… even so, knowing what she knew now, she'd probably have spent a bit more time questioning whether that trade-off was worth it.

Ever since she'd turned, it seemed as if the two halves of her nature were constantly fighting one another. More often than not, her desperate, unquenched thirst warred with the knowledge that her would-be meals were all _human beings_ , among whose ranks she had counted herself not too long ago. Even when Hellsing provided her with medical blood—given willingly, with no loss of life—she still had to contend with the visceral disgust of the knowledge that that was _human blood_ she now had to drink in order to sustain herself.

Seras sighed. There were times when she honestly wished that Alucard had just stopped at shooting her, and then let her perish on the ground.

She shook her head. This self-destructive thinking wasn't getting her anywhere. Pulling up a chair, she settled herself down at the table to begin her nightly battle.

Sir Integra had made it quite clear that the Hellsing Organization was only willing to support her as long as she made herself useful to them. The second she posed a threat to humans, however—the second she lost control of her hunger, and sank her fangs into a living person's neck without explicit permission from either her Master or his own—that was the second that _she_ would become Hellsing's next target. Hellsing's mission, after all, was to _hunt_ dangerous vampires, not to protect them.

That was the thought she tried to keep in her head as she stared at the wide bowl and spoon that were the only tableware provided her, and at the bag of medical blood, sitting upright in its bucket of ice, that had been left on her table as it was left every night. _If I lose control, I'm going to become a danger to people. The more often I drink on my own, the less likely I am to lose control. This blood was given willingly. This way I can feed myself without hurting anyone._ Then, once she had completed the nightly ritual of talking herself through her moral qualms: _This is medical blood. It's as clean as it comes. It's far safer than anything you could get by biting a person's neck. Some cultures eat maggots, and live octopuses, and suckling mice. If I really think about it, there are far worse things that I could be drinking…_

Some nights, she was able to talk herself down, and to ignore the _other_ voice inside of her that screamed that she was losing more and more of the last shreds of her humanity with every sip she took. Some nights, she didn't even have to do _that_ , as the extended period of starvation caught up with her and she gulped down her dinner with a mindless intensity.

Tonight was not one of those nights. The blood, just as it had on so many other nights, ended up going not into her mouth, but down the drain.

It didn't take long for Seras to find herself regretting that decision.

Vampires didn't need to feed as often as humans did, and they didn't experience hunger in the same way as humans either. So even though she hadn't had even so much as a drop to drink for nearly a week running, she didn't have to contend with excruciating stomach cramps or any feelings of faintness. That didn't change the fact that what she _did_ have to contend with was _highly unpleasant_.

Her limbs were sluggish. Her head felt full of fog. Even the last feeble rays of the setting sun seemed to pound down on her with the force of a hammer. When she picked up a gun on the shooting range, she was shocked to find that it actually felt _heavy—_ like it or not, she was beginning to weaken.

That wasn't even the worst part, though. The worst part was that every human she had even so much as passing contact with, from the hired help to her fellow soldiers all the way up to Sir Integra herself, had begun to look like nothing so much as a juice box full of delicious red liquid—and she a parched traveler in the middle of the desert.

 _No_ , she told herself firmly when a couple of blood bags—er, _fellow soldiers—_ gave her a friendly wave as they walked by. Seras barely managed to wave back, but the second their backs were turned she found herself stuffing her own fist into her mouth in an effort to control her hunger.

By this point, she'd made the gesture so many times that it had become automatic. This time, though, she'd been starving herself for so much longer, and the bloodthirsty urges were so much more intense, that without really thinking about it, she bit down.

Immediately, sweet salvation filled her mouth as blood splashed across her tongue— _her own_.

Shocked, intrigued, and with an anticipation so heady it almost bordered on fear, Seras pulled her hand away from her mouth. Her fangs had punctured the skin, leaving a pair of twin red stains that were rapidly spreading across her glove, but the fact of the matter remained: even those few drops of her own blood had revived her considerably.

All at once, Seras found herself grinning. She might just have found a solution to her little problem.

* * *

Once upon a time, Integra Hellsing had _thought_ that she had seen it all. Alucard's new fledgling had quickly proved her wrong.

The first time that Integra saw the young vampire, walking down the hall with her arm held up to her face at an _incredibly_ awkward angle so she could sink her fangs into her own wrist, the only thing she could do was stop and stare.

Was… was she _humming_ to herself as she sucked her own blood?

The first few times, Integra wondered whether this new development was something she should be worried about. After some observation, however, she decided that as strange as it was, Seras didn't seem to be coming to any harm, and… well, she _was_ drinking blood now. Even if it was her own.

Integra decided that as long as it kept her men from getting eaten, she was just going to let this play out.

* * *

"You should try thish shometime, Mashter. It'sh really good!"

"…I'm embarrassed to be seen with you."

* * *

 **A/N:** This came from another forum discussion on how in the Gonzo series Seras always seems to stuff her fist into her mouth when she's thirsty. Gonzoverse Seras also seems to have a much harder time controlling her hunger and much more internal conflict over drinking blood.


	13. It's All About the Aesthetic

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Integra

* * *

"B-b-but, Sir Hellsing—!"

"I already gave you my answer." Taking a cigar out of her case, she put it in her mouth, flicked the lighter, and gave the supplicant a steady stare over the glowing tip. "Well?" she asked as he continued to stand, unmoving, in front of her desk. "Was there something else you wanted to waste my time with?"

The man's shoulders slumped. "No, sir." Turning, he shuffled out of the room. As soon as the door closed Integra snuffed the cigar into her ashtray.

"Such casual waste of resources, Master." Integra didn't blink as Alucard walked through the wall perpendicular to the door from which her visitor had just exited. "To throw away something not even half used is not like you."

"Oh, Alucard." She continued grinding the cigar into the ashtray until not even the slightest wisp of smoke was left. "You may have been alive for centuries, but there are still a few things you have yet to learn."

"Oh?" Alucard did not seem offended at his beloved Master's profession of his ignorance. Indeed, he was nothing short of intrigued.

"For example." Integra leaned forward, folding her hands beneath her chin. "There's no better way to tell an unworthy supplicant that his petition is not worthy of notice than to busy oneself with a cigarette while he's still talking."

"Very astute, my Master. And yet, you still do not finish what you start."

"I don't want lung cancer, Alucard." She pushed the ashtray to the other side of her desk. "No, this is about… the _aesthetic_."

* * *

"Good god, woman! Iscariot just fought a battle to help your sorry Protestant country, and what do ye do? Ye spend the time leaning up against the wall, brushing your hair and wiping the blood from your face!"

"Aesthetic."

* * *

"Seras! Take me up to that roof!"

"But, sir, you could be shot!"

"And it's your job to prevent that. Take me up there, now!"

"…but why?"

"I have a dramatic speech to make! Neglecting appearances is completely unacceptable!"

"…okay."

"And tell no one about this, _ever_. Aesthetic must look effortless."

"…yes, sir."

* * *

 **A/N:** Am I the only one who's noticed that _nobody ever finishes a cancer stick_ in this series?

I headcanon Integra as being someone who puts a lot of conscious thought into the way she presents, because she knows it'll have a big effect on the way she's perceived. Add that to the amount of effort that Integra must have put in behind the scenes just to achieve _exactly_ the right effect at _exactly_ the right moment, and... well...


	14. Mind Your Manners

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Seras, Alucard, Anderson

* * *

 _Drink my blood, Police Girl._

"M-Master?"

 _If you drink my blood, you will no longer be a lowly slave vampire, but a No Life Queen who wanders the night at will. Take my blood, Police Girl, and show this Judas Priest how a real vampire fights!_

"B-but Master, I—"

Suddenly, the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Turning around slowly, she caught the gleam of moonlight off of a pair of polished blades at the end of the hallway. Standing there, a mad grin on his face and a bayonet in each hand, was the priest who'd attacked them—the one who'd recovered from a bullet to the face and then gone on to separate her Master's head from his body, cackling madly all the while.

After a brief shriek of terror, however, Seras realized that he wasn't moving. She blinked. After a few seconds of staring, a few seconds in which the priest still did not move, her curiosity overcame her fear. "Aren't you going to attack me?" she asked.

"And interrupt yer conversation?" The priest scoffed. "That would be rude." He shook his head. "Kids these days," he muttered under his breath. "None of them have any manners."

* * *

 **A/N:** You ever notice how every time two characters stop to speak telepathically, no matter how intense the battle is, they somehow _always_ manage to have an uninterrupted conversation? (Seras and Pip's battle with the Captain was another option, but seeing as the Captain never _talks_ , Anderson it was.)


	15. How Not to Date a Vampire, Part II

**Universe:** Ultimate (Rio arc)

 **Characters:** Pip, Seras, Alucard

 **Relationship:** Seras/Pip

* * *

Well, Pip thought, as far as being stranded in Rio and unable to get on a plane because every international police force in the world thought your traveling companions were dangerous terrorists, he'd been in worse scrapes.

For one thing, nobody thought that _he_ was the terrorist (for once), so Pip was able to move around the city freely. For another thing, the climate was good enough that he could treat it as a vacation, rather than an exercise in survivalism. (Note to self: no more taking jobs in Russia in the winter, no matter _how_ much they were paying.) Most importantly of all, he now got to spend almost all of his time with a cute girl.

Granted, it was full daylight, and Seras _should_ have been sleeping. She'd said she'd felt restless, though, and needed something to do, so he'd invited her to come along on his latest run for groceries. The decision had been a good one; she'd visibly relaxed once they'd been out for a while and nobody had connected the shy, hooded girl in pink with the supposed terrorist whose blurred face had been all over the news, and by the time they were ready to head back, their arms full of bags and boxes, they were chatting easily and laughing at each other's jokes.

Alucard was in his coffin when they came back through the door, but pushed the lid up and blinked at them languidly as they started bustling around and putting everything away. At least, Pip thought nervously, after his latest rampage the vampire was very well-fed, and as long as they could get _out_ of here within a reasonable time frame, he wasn't likely to be next on the menu. Seras hummed cheerfully as she lifted a loaf of bread from the bag; Pip shook himself, grabbed a bag of sunflower seeds, and started to snack while he sorted groceries. Anything to make himself feel less like a goat in the sites of a tiger.

Unfortunately, he'd been paying so much attention to Alucard he'd forgotten to pay attention to Seras, and when he turned around, they promptly crashed into each other. Pip went flying, as did the bag of sunflower seeds in his hand.

"Sorry, sorry!" Pip sat up, rubbing his head. "I should've been paying better attention."

Seras had her hands over her mouth and looked horrified, as if afraid she'd accidentally broken him. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, are you o…?"

Even as she voiced her concern, however, Seras's eyes went vacant. Her hands twitched as her gaze was pulled to the floor. No, Pip realized, not the floor—the _sunflower seeds_ that were now scattered all over the floor.

"Oh, _now_ you've gone and done it." Alucard was now sitting up in his coffin, watching with a wide grin as Seras knelt down on the floor. "She's going to be all day with this now."

"Gone and done what?" Pip had the distinct feeling he'd missed something. "What's happened to her? Seras…?"

She picked up a sunflower seed. "One." Another seed. "Two." She seemed to be only half aware of what she was doing. When he looked back to Alucard for explanation, the older vampire only laughed.

"We all feel a compulsion to count spilled seeds and grains of rice. Those of us with sufficient strength are capable of resisting, but…" Here he gestured toward Seras, who was still picking up seeds.

What was he supposed to _do_ with this? He'd been hoping to spend more time with Seras, but nowhere in his plans had that included watching her compulsively count his spilled snack. Well, at this point it was either watch, leave, or try to make the best of it. Sighing, Pip got up and went to kneel next to Seras, who was still picking up seeds and counting under her breath. "Here." He held out a hand.

"Oh?" Alucard was watching them quite a bit of interest. Pip ignored him.

Seras turned to look at him, a question in her eyes. It seemed to require quite a bit of willpower to tear her gaze away from her task, however, as after only a few seconds she was back to picking up seeds. "What? Eleven. I can't exactly—twelve—stop this, you know. Thirteen."

"I know." ("Fourteen.") Pip didn't retract his hand. "Just give them ("Fifteen.") to me when you're done ("Sixteen.") counting them. It'll ("Seventeen.") make things easier."

Seras shrugged, but couldn't seem to muster the focus necessary to debate the point. Instead, she placed a handful of seeds into his outstretched palm.

Pip sighed, and dropped the first seed back into the bag. "One." He accepted another handful from Seras, and dropped in another. "Two." He was _not_ going to pay attention to Alucard's chuckles. "Three. Hey, does this count as a date? Four."

There were 3074 seeds in that bag. Pip was never going to look at a sunflower seed again.

* * *

 **A/N:** This _might_ have been inspired by one of the sillier episodes of _X-Files_ , in which a heavily drugged Mulder fends off an attacking vampire by spilling a bag of sunflower seeds onto the floor. It was super effective. (This chapter also came out far sweeter at the end than I'd anticipated.)


	16. A Match Made in Hell

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** OC, Integra

 **Relationship:** Most decidedly NOT Integra/OC

 **Warnings:** Misogyny, mentions of abuse

* * *

Mordred Acton hadn't been quite sure what he'd been signing on for when his distant cousin had offered him a ready solution to his little marriage problem, but it definitely hadn't been _this_.

He and his father had been at loggerheads for the past three years and counting. The heir to the estate was expected to be _responsible_ and _respectable_ , and his father's definition of both of those terms seemed to be quite a bit different from his. Never mind that he'd shown great aptitude for finances, or for managing the estate's personnel—if he wasn't married within the next year, and if he hadn't produced an heir within the next two, he wouldn't be seeing so much as a penny of his inheritance, which would instead be going to his younger brother.

Well, let it never be said that Mordred didn't love money, and let it never be said that he wasn't willing to do a few things he found to be personally… _distasteful…_ in order to get it. A wife, he could deal with. Babymaking too, if he must. Even if he didn't particularly _like_ women, he was willing to use as firm a hand as he had to in order to train any given one into tolerable behavior.

So, he'd dropped a word in the ear of those relatives who were sympathetic to his plight. One of his uncles had pointed him to a cousin who'd happened to know somebody _else_ , and before he knew it, he'd been sitting down to tea with a serious older gentleman who'd informed him that he did indeed know a lady of class who was _also_ in need of a spouse and an heir, and how much responsibility was Mordred willing to take on?

The records of Mordred's management of his father's estate had proved more than adequate to satisfy his distant relative. Meanwhile, he in turn had been studying the profile of the woman he was to marry.

She was indeed a lady of quality, with an old family name and substantial assets. In addition, she'd already proven herself to be competent at handling said assets (good; the less that Mordred would have to train into her, the better), and—Mordred had been quite intrigued to learn this—the last surviving member of her family.

She really _did_ need an heir, and such a match was sure to satisfy his father. Mordred smiled. It seemed that his problems were coming to an end.

…of course, that was before he actually _met_ her.

"Acton," she greeted neutrally as the two of them entered her office—but she was addressing Mordred's cousin, not him. She looked exactly like her picture—icy blue eyes, long platinum hair, glasses, formal clothes cut in a distinctly masculine style. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"Sir Hellsing, I'd like you to meet your new fiancé."

For a moment, the Hellsing heir simply stared at them. Mordred started to squirm. He _had_ known, of course, that this was the first she would be hearing of the arrangement, but he'd expected… _some_ kind of protest. Screaming, maybe, panic, however skillfully hidden. _Anything_ other than that perfectly calm, unyielding stare.

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "I'm afraid I misheard you." Still appearing completely unperturbed, she drew a cigar from a small box at her elbow and lit it.

"Sir Hellsing," his cousin addressed her, affecting a great air of patience, "this isn't a request and it isn't an option. You are in need of an heir. The Round Table has already found you a suitable husband, and thereby saved you the trouble. You need to consider your position, and then—"

"Allow me to make myself clear." She took the cigar out of her mouth, blowing a stream of smoke over the side of the desk. "No."

"I'm aware that this must come as a shock." His cousin stood, but put a hand on Mordred's shoulder when he rose to follow. "I suggest you spend some time to get to know each other better while you rethink your position." He either didn't notice or was completely ignoring the way that Integra's hands clenched into fists against the wood of her desk as he made his way to the door.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuummmmm…" Integra turned that icy glare on him, and he immediately shut up.

"Well well, that _was_ an interesting development." Mordred looked left and right for the source of the voice, which was inexplicably _eerie_ in a way he couldn't quite name… only to fall off of his chair with a shriek when a man wearing all red entered the room _directly through the floor_.

If Mordred had been startled before, he was downright _paralyzed_ with fear when the man turned his attention his way—good God, even his _eyes_ were red. "So what do you plan to do with him, Master?" He turned Mordred's way with a grin, a grin that exposed _far_ too many of his teeth, and _oh God oh God no human had fangs like that, this man wasn't a man at all, he was—_

"You're not allowed to eat him, Alucard," the Hellsing heir said, and _how the hell was she so calm?_ Her eyes flicked Mordred's way, and somehow her blue stare was somehow even more unnerving than the monster's red one. "…without my explicit permission."

* * *

"Hello? Father?"

"Ah, hello, Mordred. Your cousin told me you've found a—"

" _Arthur can have it._ "

"…I'm sorry? I thought you were finally making some progress?"

" _No amount of money is worth this._ "

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, it's another riff on the "Integra must get married" cliché. (I did consider writing The Further Adventures of Mordred in which he encounters not only Alucard but also Seras and Walter, and promptly learns that even the seemingly harmless, personable people could both literally kill him with a flick of their fingers, in addition to witnessing what Integra herself is capable of doing both with a gun and with a sword, eventually culminating in him waiting hand and foot on the entire Hellsing Organization in a desperate effort to stay on Integra's good side so he doesn't get eaten (or shot, or stabbed, or sliced). Buuuuuuuuut I'm currently in the process of moving, I've got another big RL thing coming up shortly after that and to top it all off I'm sick and planning to spend the entirety of tomorrow in bed and doped up on cold medicine, and I've already eaten through enough of my buffer as is.)


	17. Whose Nail Is It, Anyway?

**Universe:** Ultimate/Gonzoverse crossover

 **Characters:** Anderson, Helena (Gonzoverse)

* * *

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!

Oh no, not _again!_

That loose floorboard was well and truly driving her to distraction. Every time it creaked, it tore through the nice quiet atmosphere of her home and ruined any mood she might have had for reading. When she'd taken a closer look at it, however, it was only to find that the problem could not be fixed: the nail that held that end of the board in place was _gone_.

Every time she walked to the bookshelf, that creak. Every time she tried to put a record on, that creak. She was fairly certain that she would go out of her mind before she ever managed to find the missing nail that would hold that errant floorboard in its proper place.

Not, that is, unless she did the unthinkable, and went… _outside_.

* * *

Vines began to grow and snake over Anderson's chest as, over Alucard's protests, he plunged Helena's Nail into his own heart. Friend and foe alike watched, horrified, as their teacher, their father figure, their worthy opponent began the transformation from man into monster…

…only to be ripped out of his heart and fly into the hand of an expressionless, yellow-eyed girl.

She said not a word as Anderson staggered and everyone else stared, even Alucard and the various members of Millennium completely dumbfounded at what had just occurred. She only clutched her prize tighter in her hand, turned her back on the battlefield, and vanished.

* * *

 _Finally_.

She finished pounding the long-lost nail into the stubborn board, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Experimentally, she took a step forward onto the offending piece of floor, and met with silence. Calm, blissful _silence_.

Already contemplating which books she wanted to read and which record she wanted to play now that she could enjoy them in peace, Helena smiled. All was right with the world.

* * *

 **A/N:** This one is not my original idea either. In the midst of a discussion comparing the two animes, someone noticed that in _Ultimate_ , Anderson transformed himself using a holy relic called Helena's Nail, and that in the Gonzo anime, there's an actual _character_ who's named Helena…


	18. Too Much Information

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Integra, Walter

* * *

Integra Hellsing was not a figurehead, nor was she the sort of leader who was content to stay at a distance. True, she knew how to delegate, but she would never be a commander who gave her soldiers orders she was not willing to carry out herself. She needed to be able to handle her sword and her gun. At the very least, she needed to be able to _write_.

Removing her glove, she examined the cut on her finger. It looked approximately the same way that it felt: reddened, hot to the touch, and oozing yellowish fluid. When she'd taken it upon herself to help a young, insecure vampire drink her first drops of blood, this was _not_ how she'd anticipated it ending.

"Yes, it almost certainly looks like an infection," Walter corroborated when she rang him. "Though if you want an actual diagnosis, an actual doctor would be much better suited than I."

"There's no need for that, Walter. No need to waste a doctor's time for something I could easily treat myself."

"Very good, sir. I'll get the antiseptic."

"What were you doing, anyway?" Walter asked later, as Integra was making liberal use of the supplies he had brought her. "It's not like you to leave even a minor wound so neglected."

"I haven't been neglecting it. One would think that a vampire's mouth—"

Noticing that her butler was suddenly looking distinctly uncomfortable, Integra cut herself off. "At any rate," she continued, "this has never happened with _Alucard_."

"I… see." Walter still seemed to be squirming slightly, and wouldn't meet her eyes. "Have you considered the… erm… _age_ of the vampire in question? After all a human's mouth is far dirtier than a vampire's, and if we're… ah… talking about someone who hasn't been a vampire for long…"

Suddenly, it clicked, and Walter took the opportunity to edge quickly out of the room while Integra rubbed her temples.

* * *

 **A/N:** Integra: "Lick my finger, I don't want it to get infected."

Me: "Well putting it in someone else's mouth is the _exact wrong way_ to go about that!"

Walter: "I can't stop automatically picturing the various things my boss might have been doing with the various vampires that are currently in Hellsing's employ, please stop talking about this."


	19. Earn Your Wings, Part III

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Walter, Seras

 **Continuity:** The thrilling conclusion to Parts I and II; for context, see those.

* * *

Seras was on to him; he knew it.

It _must_ be some sort of joke between her and Alucard. That was the only explanation; even if Walter thought that Seras had believed him initially (which, by this point, he had some severe doubts about, given all of her probing questions), there was no way in Hell that Alucard would not have spilled the beans by now. The vampire would never pass up an opportunity to have a laugh at his expense, he thought sourly.

"Hi, Walter!"

Oh, no…

"Master says that his gun keeps jamming, and he sent me to bring it to you for repairs."

"I see." _Here it comes…_

"So, Walter…"

"Yes, Miss Victoria?" _Any second now…_

"Master told me that while I was here, I should ask about that battle. I… that is, he said…"

"What did he say?" Walter prompted when she seemed somewhat reluctant to continue. _She's on to me she's on to me she's on to me…_

"He said you could tell me what not to do. But you're such a skilled vampire hunter and it was such a hard battle, I don't see what—"

" _I tied myself to a tree._ "

For a second, Seras only stared at him in shock. Then, however, she let out a small, surprised giggle, quickly raising a hand to her mouth in order to hide her smile. "Um… what?"

"I hadn't had much practice at the time," he admitted, shamefaced. "I was trying to practise by cutting up a stationary target. Alucard thought it was _hilarious_."

"I… see." The hand that Seras still had clapped over her mouth was now completely unable to muffle her giggles. Walter, face burning, took Alucard's gun from her and fled to the workshop without another word.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yet more forum suggestions for how this fiasco was going to end. (I honestly _tried_ to use proper British English spellings, but it's been a long, _long_ time since my _Harry Potter_ days, so if anyone native spots a mistake, please feel free to let me know.)


	20. What Do You Mean, It's Not Romantic?

**Universe:** Ultimate, post-epilogue (also some definite riffing on _Twilight_ )

 **Characters:** Integra, Alucard

 **Relationship:** Integra/Alucard

 **Warning:** Some stalker-ish behavior

* * *

At first, she had put Alucard's odd behaviour down to him being thirty years starved. After all that time without so much as a drop to drink, the scent of her blood must have been as tempting to him as a spring of cool water to someone lost in the desert, so Integra had forgiven him for nearly sinking his fangs into her neck, and immediately made arrangements to double the supply of medical blood being sent to the Hellsing Manor.

She'd _thought_ that with Alucard well-fed, that would be the end of it. She'd also thought it would go without saying that forgiveness for doing something once did _not_ equate to permission to do it again. After a few days, however, it quickly became apparent that something else was going on.

Alucard had never tried to bite her again, but he _had_ been sneaking into her room at night. Integra knew this because every single time she'd awoken with a start, and emptied her gun into him on reflex before she'd realized who it was. (Though in all honesty, she couldn't say she'd have done any different even if she _had_ known.)

"Explain," she demanded as she stood over him where he lay slumped against the wall, leaving a bloody smear. Integra's eyebrow twitched. Removing all of those bloodstains from the walls and floor for the third time in a row would be no joke, and losing so much sleep at her age did not make her feel inclined to be generous.

"I like watching you sleep, Master," he replied with all apparent sincerity.

Integra blinked. This… wasn't like Alucard at all. "Well, _I_ don't like sleeping with an audience. You are not to enter my room at night without permission from me unless it's to tell me that the manor is under attack, is that understood?"

"Of course, my Master." He sank back through the wall with a bow, leaving Integra with nothing but her gun and a headache.

If _only_ that had been the worst of it.

Ever since his return, Alucard had been treating her as if she were made of glass. He followed her everywhere—and she did mean _everywhere_. She couldn't seem to take a walk, or go to fencing practice or the shooting range, or even go to the _toilet_ without seeing a suspicious number of eyes lurking inside of a nearby shadow.

"I worry about your safety, my Master," was his excuse when she confronted him—again.

"I'm old and half-blind, Alucard, not an invalid!" Really, what had gotten _into_ him lately?

"Um… Master?"

"Yes, Seras?" Integra looked up from her desk, where she'd admittedly been neglecting the paperwork she was _supposed_ to be doing in favor of attempting to massage away her headache.

"Er… you know how you said that Master's been acting really weird lately?"

Integra sat up straighter; now Seras had her full attention. "I don't suppose you would know something about this?"

"Um… well… that is…" Integra noticed the Draculina was fidgeting, one of her hands held behind her back.

"Spit it out, Seras. I'm not in the mood." If _Seras_ started this too, Integra might just have to seal _both_ of them away for another fifty years.

"I… um… found this in his coffin." Withdrawing her hand from behind her back, Seras set the object in question down on Integra's desk.

"A book?" Integra picked it up by one of its corners. It looked relatively nonthreatening: a flimsy paperback, obviously mass-produced; according to the synopsis it had been quite popular a couple of decades ago. That would explain why Integra had never heard of it: her library was primarily full of thick, musty tomes that contained all the information that humanity had ever gathered on the subject of vampires. She had no time for pleasure reading, especially not when it came to the sort of cheap fiction intended to please the masses. "Alucard reads a lot of books, Seras." (Including quite a few that Integra would never touch.) "What makes you think that this is related?"

"Well, I… might have started reading it. Just a little bit. You know, out of curiosity." Integra motioned for her to continue. "And it… well… it's about a romance between a human girl and a vampire."

No. Oh no, he _didn't_. Integra rubbed her forehead as her headache promptly doubled in intensity. "Sum up the main points for me."

* * *

Integra was in the middle of a late lunch when Alucard came once again through the floor. She was far too jaded at this point _not_ to expect him to be about to perform some sort of ridiculous stunt, and in that, she was not disappointed.

In a move that was clearly coordinated, Alucard moved into her direct line of sight—and, not incidentally, into the square of sunlight that was streaming through one of the windows. Integra didn't know, and she didn't _want_ to know, but this time her vampire had done something to make himself _sparkle_.

"Alucard," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Stop. Just stop."

* * *

 **A/N:** When Alucard returns in the series epilogue by sneaking into Integra's room while she's sleeping, I couldn't help but be reminded of _another_ fictional vampire and his exceedingly creepy behavior…

(Seras is never going to admit to liking it, but that book _somehow_ manages to find its way between her and Alucard's coffins on a near-daily basis.)


	21. How Not to Date a Vampire, Part III

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Pip, Seras

 **Relationship:** Seras/Pip

* * *

 _This_ time. _This_ time, he was going to get it right.

He'd waited until early evening, so that they'd both be awake. He'd carefully avoided eating anything with garlic in it for the past week (but still made sure to give his teeth a thorough brushing, just for good measure). He'd made sure there were no sunflower seeds (or beans, or rice, or any other type of small seeds or grains) anywhere in sight.

 _Nothing_ was going to stop Pip from getting that kiss from Seras _this_ time.

Normally when he was arranging a date he'd take a girl out to dinner, but since that obviously wasn't possible (no loss there, as far as he was concerned; if there was one thing he'd learned about Brits, it was that absolutely none of them knew how to cook), he'd made a point of eating early and then asked Seras to accompany him on a tour of the city instead. Sure, it was _her_ city, but that gave him all kinds of excuses to ask her about her own vast knowledge on the local sites. Besides, if there was one thing that Pip had learned in his travels, it was that foreigners were often much more invested in exploring a place than locals—he'd bet that he'd be able to show her a thing or two that she hadn't seen before.

Yes. Every possible difficulty had been foreseen. Tonight was going to be absolutely _perfect_.

His hopes only got higher when Seras met him at the gates of the manor. True, she didn't seem to have made any special effort to dress up, but she had changed into civilian clothes and she looked _adorable_. Pip returned her cheerful greeting, and then they were off and into the city.

The two of them chatted comfortably as they switched from cabs to the London Underground to their own two feet, moving from this to that landmark or historical site without any true destination in mind. Pip let Seras take the lead; this was about showing _her_ a good time, after all. They were chatting amiably in the back of a cab, just getting ready to cross London Bridge, when—

"Stop! _Stop!_ "

The cab screeched to a halt. Horns blared out behind them as Seras threw herself from the vehicle as if it were on fire and then took off running back the way they had come. Pip opened the door to go after her, but was interrupted by the driver yelling for his fare. He stuffed some bills into the man's hand without checking the amount, and then ran through the sea of still-blaring horns in the direction that Seras had gone.

He found her huddled at the base of the bridge, staring out over the water as if it were a snake that might bite her. "What's wrong, ma chère?" he asked, already cataloging the ways that he could have possibly messed _this_ one up. He'd made sure of both the garlic and the seeds, so what on Earth—

"I can't go across that," she panted, still shaking as if she'd just escaped a dangerous wild animal.

"What?" Pip asked, still confused. "The river?"

To his surprise, she nodded, and then shuddered.

"It's… it's okay." Already Pip could feel his shoulders slumping with disappointment. "I think it's about time we returned to the manor, no?"

Seras nodded with a look of relief. "Thanks for understanding, Pip."

"No… no, problem, ma chère." _Damn it!_ He offered her his arm. _Note to self: get permission to access the Hellsing library to see whether there are any_ other _weird vampiric quirks that I don't know about._

* * *

 **A/N:** According to Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ , vampires can only cross running water at certain very specific times of day.


	22. Yes, Master

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Integra, Alucard, Seras

* * *

Seras had known that when Alucard had turned Integra, things were going to change.

They would now have a completely different dynamic, she knew. She'd even spent more time than she'd like to admit idly pondering the difference. If Alucard had sired both of them, did that make them… sisters, of a sort? Seras had always wanted a sibling, and even through all of Integra's agonizing over the decision, she had to admit that she'd been more than a little excited at the prospect.

Even so… even so, she had never foreseen _this_.

"What are your orders, my Master?"

"I think we should investigate the recent vampire activity, Master."

"Give me an order, my Master, and I will crush these dogs like the insects they are. …or would you prefer to have the pleasure this time?"

"My greatest pleasure has always been watching you, Master."

…even though she probably should have.

"I'll paint the streets red with their blood, my Master."

"There is nothing I want to see more, Master."

"Um… Master?"

Both of them turned to look at her. Seras's eyebrow twitched.

"Are… we actually going to do this any time soon? It's just… well, the night is already halfway over and we haven't moved."

Integra and Alucard looked at each other. "What do you think, Master?"

"I leave at your command, my Master."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Dropping her gun, Seras raised both hands to her head, where she grabbed fistsfuls of her hair and started tearing them out.

* * *

 **A/N:** I've spent a lot of time trying to pick apart the differences between the aspects of behavior that characters exhibit because they're vampires and which are unique to them as individuals, and it's… not as easy as it sounds. I don't count either the Gonzo FREAKS or Millennium's "instant vampires" as real vampires for this purpose, so this basically amounts to looking at the differences between Seras before and after Alucard turned her. So, while the occasional "blood rage" that overtakes her while she's fighting ghouls seems to be a side effect of vampirism, the extreme aggression that she leveled against Zorin Blitz was a part of who she was, since she exhibited that exact same aggression against her parents' murderers, and again as a kid in the orphanage.

Another thing that seems innate to true vampires is what I tend to refer to as "the Master instinct," since I really can't picture human!Seras harboring the same slavish devotion toward anyone that vampire!Seras has for Alucard, and which Alucard in turn has for Integra. And while I'm _really_ not a fan of stories that feature Integra being willingly turned into a vampire (her identity as a human is just too strong for me to be able to buy this in most cases), I did find it quite funny when it occurred to me that the inevitable result of such an eventuality would be for Integra and Alucard to fall into an Infinite Master Loop.


	23. The Why of Walter

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Walter, Integra, Arthur

* * *

 _Another_ one?

Walter's eyebrow twitched as he picked the crumpled halves of the cigar off of the floor. She hadn't even _lit_ this one before throwing it away.

It was just _too_ much. Night after night during World War II, Walter would return exhausted and battered from a night of battle only to find the mansion trashed, empty cups stacked four deep over every available surface, empty bottles of liquor rolling all over the floor, and dirty magazines resting wherever Arthur had thrown them the second he'd finally gotten his hands on the real thing. (And yes, Walter knew about that too; he wouldn't soon be forgetting the day he'd unexpectedly dug a half-dressed woman out from under all the rubbish.)

Thankfully, Arthur had mellowed out as he'd aged, after he'd gotten married and started a family (and after Islands had chewed him out a few times). What's more, his daughter had been well brought up and was much more responsible from a much younger age. Walter had _thought_ he'd put the worst of it behind him.

Apparently, he'd thought wrong.

Integra _never finished her cigars_. More often than not she'd light one, take a few puffs, and then throw it away—or throw it away without even lighting it. Even though Walter had known her for all of her life, he wasn't even sure that she actually _smoked—_ or whether constantly having a cigar in hand was simply a prop for her. Either way, _he_ was the one who was going to be cleaning the ashes out of the carpet— _again_.

Straightening up, Walter crushed the cigar in his fist as he dropped it into the bin. One day… _one day_ he was going to get even for all of these years of backbreaking cleaning.

* * *

 **A/N:** I saw an offhand joke in some comments section or other that Walter's betrayal is because he got sick of constantly having to clean up Integra's unfinished cigars.


	24. Practical Concerns

**Universe:** Either/or; pre-canon

 **Characters:** Little Integra, Walter

* * *

"Alucard said he was very thirsty. He's going to need blood."

"If I might make a suggestion, Miss Integra, your father had an arrangement with the local hospital the last time that Alucard was awake."

"Reinstate it, please." Integra paused, staring down at her too-small hands to either side of the too-long inventory that rested atop her father's too-large desk. Her head ached. Her shoulder ached even more. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and not move for the rest of the day. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate. "Does Alucard use any weapons?"

"Oh, yes. When I worked with him before, he proved himself to be quite adept at handling firearms."

"Requisition something that's suited to him. Alucard is mine now, and I won't have him going into the field poorly supplied." Already, she was thinking of him as _her_ vampire, she realized.

"Very good, Miss. Anything else?"

Integra looked back down at the inventory. She was so tired the lines were starting to blur together, but they were nearly through the list. "Is there anything else my father didn't include here?" Mentioning her father caused a wave of grief to rise up within her, but she choked it down mercilessly. Integra was the leader of Hellsing now. She could not afford any show of weakness.

"Ah yes… Miss Integra, might I suggest investing in a good pair of gloves?"

"Gloves?" Integra blinked. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been that. Walter wore them, of course, to protect his hands if he needed to use his wires, and Alucard's seals were burned onto the backs of his, but she didn't see why _she_ would have any need for such an accessory. "Whatever for?"

"Why, to avoid leaving fingerprints, of course."

Integra blanched. She shot her butler a look to see whether he was joking; judging by the expression on his face, he was not. "Of course, what you did to your uncle was a clear-cut case of self-defense; both your age and your own wounds speak well enough for you on that count. Just as well, really, since your fingerprints are all over that gun." A slight tremor went through her as she recalled that confrontation in the dungeon, and she started shaking harder when it hit her just how badly things could have gone if her innocence _hadn't_ been clear—if there had been grounds for the law to believe her a murderer.

"The Queen and the Round Table are both on your side," Walter continued once it was clear that she had grasped the implications, "but our work requires us to live beyond the pale, and it's just as well to avoid becoming embroiled in any unnecessary messes."

Integra nearly laughed. She was neck-deep in messes as it was. "Then order me some of those, too, while you're at it."

"Very good, miss."

* * *

 **A/N:** My idle musing on why literally _everyone_ in this series wears gloves, regardless of whether or not there's an actual practical _reason_ to do so:

One part of brain: "Well _obviously_ , Kouta Hirano has some sort of fetish."

Other part of brain: "Well _obviously_ , it's to avoid leaving fingerprints."

Take your pick as to which option provides the most amusement.


	25. Waste Not, Want Not

**Universe:** Either/or; _Dracula_ flavor

 **Characters:** Abraham van Helsing, anonymous other character from the _Dracula_ 'verse, Alucard

* * *

"You _kept_ it? What is _wrong_ with you!?"

"It seemed such a shame to just throw away something with so much potential. Besides, he might be useful someday."

"Useful? _Useful!?_ That thing is far more trouble than it's worth, two of our own are dead because of it, and the only excuse you can give is that it might eventually be _useful?_ "

"He swore his loyalty to me personally—"

"And we all know what the sworn loyalty of something that threw away its humanity several centuries ago is worth."

"…"

"Seriously, _why?_ "

"He just seemed so… _lonely_. And miserable. It's hard to explain this, but… I think, sometimes, that monsters are nothing more than sobbing children, crying out for someone to end their eternal torment."

"Abraham, that doesn't make sense. If you pity the thing so much, why keep it alive? Why not put it out of its misery like it wants?"

"…"

"…"

"I…"

"…you just want to be able to say that the beast that terrorized the countryside for hundreds of years now calls you 'Master', don't you?"

"…maybe?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I can't help but wonder how Abraham actually _explained_ this. (Don't take his characterization too seriously here; it's crack.)


	26. That Shattering Sound

**Universe:** Either/or

 **Characters:** Anderson, Heinkel

* * *

"That'll be 250, Father."

Anderson smiled brightly at the clerk as he left and made sure to wish her and her own a good day, but inwardly, he was grumbling. All that time, time that could have been spent spreading the word of God or training his charges or killing vampires, instead wasted away at the optometrist. All those wads of cash, constantly being forked over for pair after pair of new glasses.

His mood wasn't improved when he led his paladins into battle the next night, only to find during the cleanup afterwards that one of Heinkel's lenses was now sporting a spiderweb of cracks that threatened to shatter to pieces at the merest breath of wind.

"It-it's fine, Father," Heinkel stammered as Anderson led the small group, which included both Heinkel and a few other paladins who were _also_ sporting damaged glasses, to the eye doctor who was usually responsible for supplying them. "I can manage like this—"

"And throw off yer aim because ye can't see clearly, or worse, risk ye lowing an eye when that lens finally explodes in yer face?" Anderson shook his head. "No, I won't have any of my paladins going into battle poorly supplied, and I don't want to hear another word about this, is that clear, Heinkel?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Even so, as he forked over the money for over a thousand euros' worth of new lenses, he couldn't help but wonder whether the Lord was having Himself a bit of a practical joke at Iscariot's expense.

"Come again soon!" the clerk called cheerfully as they made their collective exit. "We always look forward to doing business with you!"

"Ah, our best customer!" the doctor on duty proclaimed a week later, after his latest bout with Alucard had shattered his lenses yet _again_. He handed over a pair of glasses, the frames and prescription already fitted to Anderson's exact specifications.

"Have… you ever considered trying contact lenses, Father?" the clerk asked timidly as she rang him up. "I mean, not that it's any of my business, but… they're much easier to manage, and they can't get broken if you get in an accident."

"And ruin my aesthetic?" Anderson adjusted his new glasses, in exactly the right way to catch a beam of light so that it gleamed back at her off of the lenses. " _Never!_ "

* * *

 **A/N:** This came about thanks to a comment left by **Marionetka** on the chapter that speculates on why literally _everyone_ in the Hellsing Organization wears gloves:

"By the way, do you have any thoughts on why almost everyone in Section XIII wears glasses? It's like, I don't know, a part of their uniform..."

(Yessssssssssssssss, give me ideassssssssssssssssssss…)


	27. Show No Pain

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Alucard

 **Continuity:** Ties into "How Not to Date a Vampire, Part II"

* * *

Alucard had been lying when he'd said that stronger vampires were immune to the weaknesses and compulsions that plagued the weaker ones.

Not that he'd ever tell that to the mercenary, of course. Or, for that matter, his fledgling. No, the fact of the matter was that older vampires suffered from every last weakness and compulsion that the younger ones did—the only difference was that being older gave one a lot more practice at _hiding_ it.

So, yes, he got what amusement he could out of Pip's little mishap with the seeds. He definitely did a fair share of smirking as his fledgling knelt to count them down, out loud, one by one—oh, the Police Girl had _so_ much to learn.

The fact of the matter remained, however, that he was busy counting them himself. Silently. Without moving to touch them or give any other indication of what he was doing. But, counting nonetheless.

' _Five…_ '

' _…ten…_ '

' _…thirty-seven…_ '

' _…two…_ '

…oh yes, and had he mentioned that every single one of the souls he'd absorbed was now subject to the exact same compulsion? This might have been even a little bit tolerable, if not for the fact that every single one of them counted at _different rates_.

Alucard sighed, and slumped in his coffin. This was going to be a _long_ afternoon.

* * *

 **A/N:** Based on speculation from several different people that Alucard is in fact suffering from all of the exact same weaknesses that Seras is, he's just a whole lot better at _hiding_ it.


	28. Crash Course

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Alucard

* * *

 _Inlet Parameters? What the hell is an 'inlet parameter'?_

Alucard's brow furrowed as he brought the pages closer to his eyes. There was no light inside of the coffin, but of course, that wasn't a problem for _him_.

 _Oil Supply System… Engine Fuel Hydraulic System… Accessory Drive System… Damn it, I'm not trying to_ build _it, I just need to be able to_ fly _it!_

…now, if only the lack of light were the _only_ obstacle he had to deal with.

Frustrated, Alucard flipped to the page labeled "Primary Flight Controls" in the Table of Contents. He had less than 24 hours to master this and he couldn't even seem to _find_ what he needed, much less memorize it.

"The full-power irreversible flight control system consists of cockpit controls (stick and rudder pedals), four elevons, and two full-moving rudders."

Aha, now _here_ was something that he could follow through on (even if he'd eventually need to find out what exactly an "elevon" was). Alucard continued reading.

"Two elevons are hinge-mounted to the upper trailing edge of each wing, one inboard and one outboard of the respective engine nacelle. A tetrahedral-shaped rudder is mounted to a fixed stub fin on the upper aft portion of each engine nacelle. Each rudder assembly is canted inward 15 degrees."

The hell? Were any of those even _words?_

He scanned the rest of the paragraph, but gleaned approximately nothing that would actually help him to _operate_ the thing. He flipped forward a few more pages to see whether there would be anything in the _next_ few pages that might help him to get this heap of metal off of the ground.

"The outboard elevons are slaved to their respective inboard elevon by a mechanical input which connects the inboard surface to the outboard elevon servo. Thus, any movement of the inboard surface moves the outboard servo, which positions the outboard elevon."

This was getting him nowhere. Now beyond frustration and fully into the realm of incomprehension-induced rage, Alucard did the only thing that was left for him to do, and threw the book. Of course, being in a coffin, that only mean that it thumped off of the roof and came right back down again to bonk him on the head.

"Alucard?" A couple of brisk knocks on the lid accompanied his Master's voice. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Fine, Master," he grumbled, retrieving the book from where it now lay sprawled open on top of his forehead. "I'll be ready to fly by the time the sun sets."

He _would_ figure out how to fly this plane in time if it killed him.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, when I posted the chapter "For Queen and Country", someone left a review stating that Hirano actually had a tweet somewhere that read "Don't be fooled by his smile, Alucard spent a whole night cramming the SR-71 manual book off-screen." Now, I have been unable to verify said tweet (it probably doesn't help that I can't read Japanese), but the idea was funny enough that there was absolutely no way I could _not_ include it. (Yesssssssssssss, give me ideassssssss…)

(And yes, that was the actual SR-71 manual that I was pulling quotes from.)


	29. You Gotta Start Somewhere

**Universe:** Ultimate; Meta

 **Relationship:** Alucard/the Queen of England is mentioned…

* * *

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn."

"Is… something the matter?"

"I have no idea what my next project is going to be. I'm completely at a loss."

"Very sorry to hear that. I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help?"

"I'm afraid not. Writer's block isn't something that can be fixed with a few magic words."

"If only. Well then, I suppose I'll leave you to your work."

"Unless…"

"Yes?"

"In any case, it can't _hurt…_ Quick, give me the weirdest possible crack pairing that you can come up with, and add a gimmick to it!"

"Um… Dracula with the Queen of England, with… genderbending?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I know, that's stupid. Sorry I couldn't be any—"

"That's _brilliant!_ "

"…um, what?"

"I've got an idea for my next story already! Except… hm."

"Another problem?"

"I still need a villain. Quick, name a villain! First one you can come up with!"

"… … Nazis…?"

"You're a _genius!_ "

* * *

 **A/N:** If the subtext between Alucard and the Queen was actually a Thing, and if Alucard was consistently a girl back during the Dawn era, then Japan basically just got away with writing lesbian slashfic of the Queen of England. No offense meant to Kohta Hirano. (Seriously, though, how do you come _up_ with something like this?)


	30. Conspiracy Theories

**Universe:** Either/or, but with more references to _Ultimate_

 **Characters:** OCs

* * *

Officer Jones rubbed his forehead. This headache of his was _not_ going to be going away anytime soon.

Whatever the identity of this serial killer—or killers; given the level of destruction they left in their wake, he wouldn't be at all surprised if there were more than one—they definitely had a taste for the macabre. Whole families murdered in their beds. Blood used to paint gory artwork on the walls. Five of these murders— _five—_ and still no leads.

The press was going to have a field day with this.

"What have we got in the bedroom?" he asked, turning to his partner.

"More of the same." Smith had been on the force for over fifteen years, and even he looked ill at the sight of the carnage that had been laid out before them. "I tell you, sometimes I think I'm getting too old for this job."

* * *

It didn't exactly help when Forensics came back with the results on the bullets that were found at the crime scene.

"You _can't_ be serious." Jones shot Harker his hardest look, as if glaring at her for long enough would change what she'd just told him.

"Of course I'm serious." She pushed the paper back toward him across the desk. "I'm telling you, that's what we found."

The bullets had been from _two_ guns. One of them was black market. The other couldn't be traced back to _any_ known weapon. They were right back at Square One.

* * *

"Maybe it's vampires," Smith suggested offhandedly, after they had traced yet another tenuous lead to yet another dead end.

Jones shot him a look. He really wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"I'm just saying." Smith shrugged. "Given the messes we've found, attacks at night, bodies drained, the stuff that's been drawn on the walls, it makes a weird sort of sense. Or terrorists. Maybe the Nazis are making a comeback."

"Nazis or vampires?" Jones rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. We have work to do."

* * *

 **A/N:** Based on some speculation about _what_ the ordinary people who only get to see the aftermath must think about all of this.


	31. How Not to Date a Vampire, Part IV

**Universe:** Ultimate

 **Characters:** Pip, Seras

 **Relationship:** Seras/Pip

* * *

 _This_ time. _This_ time, he had done his homework.

No garlic. No running water. No holy water. No holy silver. No seeds. No beans. No grains. No collections of any small objects anywhere near their immediate vicinity.

Pip had eaten his dinner beforehand. He'd brushed his teeth until his gums bled. He'd picked a spot they could visit without having to cross any rivers—low-key, but then he'd seen what happened whenever he tried to do something fancy. This time, _this_ time he was going to get it right.

"It's been so long since I got to do this!" Seras whispered excitedly as they settled into their seats at the back of the darkened theater, and Pip didn't even try to hide his grin. He knew how much Seras still sometimes missed her human life. He also knew she could no longer walk about in the sunlight, or enjoy human food. So, he'd put in an effort to track down something she _could_ still enjoy.

"My pleasure is yours, ma chere. It was no trouble at all."

It had been _plenty_ of trouble. He'd spent _weeks_ in the Hellsing library, sacrificing day off after day off to read up on vampires. The second they'd walked through the door, he'd quickly interposed his own body between Seras and the popcorn machine, before drawing her attention quickly to the posters on the wall and asking her to pick the film—the _last_ thing he needed was to spend his night explaining to every passing stranger why his date was spending _her_ night in the theater lobby obsessively counting popcorn.

Of course, _Seras_ didn't need to know how much effort he'd put in.

It paid off. Though the film that she'd chosen honestly bored _him_ , if Pip had been going out to entertain himself, he wouldn't have chosen the movies. They left the theater arm in arm, chatting easily about everything and nothing.

Back to the manor, and his heart was pounding. As far as this date was concerned, their night was over, and the only question left was: would they be going their separate ways, or… staying together? It was far too early for Seras to go back to her coffin, but not too early at all for him to seek his bed.

They'd reached his quarters. The door was open, but he didn't go in. They stood outside and looked at each other. "Well…" he said.

"Well…" she replied. He'd never realized before that a vampire could blush.

"Do you…?"

"Should I…?"

If that wasn't an indication that a girl wasn't ready to go her own way, he didn't know what was. Grinning, Pip pushed the door wider. Still blushing, Seras put her hand in his. Gently, he began to pull her into the room…

"Oof!"

He blinked. Seras's face was turned to the side, her cheek flattened as if she'd pressed her face up against a glass wall. At least he'd tugged her gently, otherwise she might have ended up with a broken nose and wouldn't _that_ be fun, but still—!

Think, Pip, think! Seras had already backed off, rubbing a confused hand over her face while Pip wracked his brain trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

"My apologies, ma chere. I got caught up in the moment." Once again, he held out a hand. "You're invited."

Somewhat more cautiously this time, Seras put her hand in his. Her eyes scrunched shut as he pulled her forward, but this time, she passed through the door without incident. When she settled into his arms, she blinked, looking surprised that she'd actually made it over the threshold.

Pip chuckled. "What did I tell you? I've been doing my homework."

"You certainly have." Seras tucked her head beneath his chin, and right at that moment Pip thought that whatever happened next, all of the aggravation would have been worth it.

* * *

 **A/N:** And DONE!

I know that this series wasn't always my best writing, but my best writing was never the point. The point was to get myself writing again, and to have fun, and in that I think I succeeded. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, whether it was to offer a differing opinion or simply to say you enjoyed it. With luck, I will be working on something longer (not to mention more serious) at some point in the future.


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